


The Raisin Aversion

by AstroPhantom



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Cuddles!, F/M, and Amy's Victorian Christmas party, shamy, this is a continuation of "The Clean Room Infiltration"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroPhantom/pseuds/AstroPhantom
Summary: Sheldon just doesn't seem to care for raisins all that much…





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Big Bang Theory fic! I was watching "The Clean Room Infiltration," and this little idea popped into my head.

Amy was over the moon right now. She had thrown a Victorian Christmas party for the ages - which had been well received by her group of friends, even a begrudging Raj. She had given her boyfriend the “perfect” gift by procuring and baking his Meemaw’s cookie recipe. And, as a sort of added bonus, he had given her a heartfelt gift and the knowledge that he treasured her. But most importantly, he was genuinely happy about celebrating the holidays, which was a sight to behold and treasure in itself.

It was with this thought in mind that caused Amy to glance at her boyfriend standing next to her and smile. She loved it when he was like this. When Sheldon was truly happy, it was extremely contagious. He had been so enthralled with her gift of the cookies and had enjoyed the party so much, that he had offered to stay after and help her clean up after the party, all of his own free will. At this moment, they were standing over the kitchen counter, Sheldon washing dishes and Amy drying them as the two of them casually chatted about the party.

“You know, I must admit that I actually liked the goose, much to my own surprise. It was quite tasty, despite Howard’s repeated insistence of it smelling like a bluejay,” Sheldon remarked, handing Amy the serving platter that the bird had rested on earlier that evening.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sheldon. I actually used a recipe I found online for it that uses a special mixture of spices,” Amy revealed, wiping off excess moisture from the platter before putting it in her cupboard.

“And I’m still amazed that you obtained Meemaw’s cookie recipe. They really were perfect,” he continued, beaming down at her.

“Aww, thank you, Sheldon,” Amy said, smiling back at him, all the while blushing ever-so-slightly.

“I must say, Dr. Fowler, you are quite the chef in general. In addition to the cookies, you made a meal to remember. Everything was just so tasty!” Sheldon exclaimed as he scrubbed at a plate until it looked practically brand new.

“I just wanted to have everything right. I even used my great-grandmother’s original figgy pudding recipe, which surprisingly went over really well with everyone.”

“Well of course! Once I learned it had figs and not raisins in it, I couldn’t say no!”

Amy couldn’t help but notice the disdain in his voice at the mention of “raisins.” It wasn’t the first time this week he had shown a rather apparent hatred for them. Just because they were deceiving in figgy pudding, at least to him, they still shouldn’t have been condemned this much. Then again, this was Sheldon they were talking about. Still, scientific curiosity got the better of her. “If I may ask, Sheldon, why exactly do you seem to be so against raisins?”

Sheldon stopped washing the dishes for a second, and suddenly couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with her, opting to focus on the sink faucet in front of him instead. Still, he tried to pass off her question by replying with, “Oh, you know. Raisins are just dried-up grapes, and grapes are what wine is made of. They might as well just package them as mini dehydrated wine coolers for astronauts.”

Amy didn’t buy into it for a second. “Sheldon,” she pressed lightly. “You know that’s a ridiculous reason. Raisins are alcohol-free. Trust me on that. Now please, just tell me why you don’t like raisins.”

He turned his head slightly to search her eyes, expecting to see impatience burning in them, but instead found understanding and simple questioning within her beautiful hazel orbs. He sighed, having his impression of raisins come to the forefront of his mind before he began to speak again.

“As belittling as this may sound for such a scientist as myself, when I was younger, I was obsessed with raisins. They were my favorite snack, a ‘comfort fruit,’ if you will. At one point, my love of them became so focused that my mother started to use them as bait for me to do my chores, which I caught onto quickly.” Here, Sheldon took a breath to steady himself for the part of his story to come. “The reason I hate raisins now, however, is because one day when I was five, my mother convinced me to come downstairs to the kitchen by bribing me with sugar-coated raisins, which was a very special treat for me. But while I started to eat those, she broke the news to me that my Pop-Pop had passed away.”

At this, Amy’s hand covered her mouth as she let out a soft gasp, before taking his hand in hers, saying, “Oh Sheldon, I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible to have been told like that.”

He nodded slightly and continued on. “It was. I never ate raisins again after that, because all I could think when I saw them then was about deceit and the loss of one of the most important men in my life.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Amy heard something unusual - a sniffle? She looked up at Sheldon, who was looking at the edge of the kitchen counter and was indeed tearing up. His Pop-Pop had been a major influence on Sheldon as a child, she had previously learned, so his reaction was more than justified right now. She didn’t know exactly how to make him feel better at this point, but she went out on a limb and slowly removed her hand from his before moving closer to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a reassuring hug as she cradled his head against her own shoulder. As if by instinct, he wrapped his own arms around her back.

“Shh. It’ll be okay, Sheldon. It’s okay,” Amy whispered into his ear, rubbing her hand along his back to calm him. “I’m sorry I asked about the raisins. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Very quietly, he replied, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

At that point, Amy figured the hug was over and began to pull away from him. But all of the sudden, she received a second pleasant surprise of the night: Sheldon wasn’t letting her go from the hug. She smiled warmly to herself, returning to her boyfriend’s embrace as she continued her attempts to comfort him.

The couple stood in the kitchen in silence for few minutes like that, holding on onto each other. Finally, Sheldon brought his head up, never letting go of Amy’s gaze as he did so. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly, and without warning leaned back down one last time to place a soft kiss of gratitude and love on her lips.

Afterwards, Amy gave him a small smile, and took his hand yet again, leading him towards the couch this time. “I think we’ve cleaned up enough for now, Sheldon. Let’s take some time to relax. Would you like to watch a show? Your choice.” As she said this, she quietly placed the box of cookies she had made him on his lap, encouraging him to eat them. He picked up one, nibbling at its edge to savor what was truly a comfort food. And she wasn’t sure if he really cared or had noticed, but Amy still hadn’t let go of his hand, and had carefully cuddled up next to him, just enough to lean into his shoulder.

Sheldon finally selected a rerun episode of  _Star Trek_  as he continued to partake of his Meemaw’s cookies, amazed at how perfectly Amy had recreated them.

At some point, however, he realized he was not being a gentleman, especially after a Victorian Christmas party. Despite his known possessiveness over his Meemaw’s food, Amy of all people deserved to share his cookies with him. With a gentle nudge of the box against her arm, he looked down at her on his shoulder, offering the cookies with a smile. For a second, he saw her calculating the weight of the gesture he was making, before she reached into the box and pulled out one of the sweets, taking a bite with a satisfied grin.

“I love you, Amy,” Sheldon whispered into her ear. Once again, he caught her gaze, and was pleased to see the smile and sheer happiness that had graced her beauty earlier during the party. It took his breath away.

A gentle kiss was his response. “I love you too.”


End file.
